BtVS Fic: "That Old-Time Religion" (1/1)
Apr. 22nd, 2005 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alixtiiAmy Madison doesn't know why she prays every night to a Goddess she doesn't believe in. But she is going to find out. Spoilers for "The Killer in Me." PG.
That Old-Time Religion
Amy Madison wasn't really the prayerful type; she had never been religious. She had gotten into Wicca for the power, the ability to manipulate the universe, not for the spirituality. Her encounters with the UC Sunnydale Wicca group, who focused almost solely on the spirituality and had very little idea what a spell even was, did not do much to change that. She had paid lip service to their Belthane Bake Sale plans, and had begun to corrupt them slowly and surely as she showed them the darker side of their religion.
So she didn't really know why she made a prayer to Hecate every night before she went to bed. She didn't believe in the gods and goddesses, at least not literally as entities which lived in the sky somewhere. They were just names to invoke, more the means to the completion of spells which would grant her the ends that she desired. Nothing more.
Still, every night as she approached her bed, she'd pause and bring herself to the bosom of the Mother Goddess. It'd be a simple prayer, something along the lines of "Mother Hecate, look after me and help me get that new car I want." But it'd be a prayer, a single moment she would spend with her Goddess, part of something bigger than herself.
And one night, the Goddess spoke back.
*****
Come to Me, My child, She whispered.
Amy looked up, startled. "Mother?"
Yes, dear one.
Suddenly, Amy understood. Her mother, yes, but not Catherine Madison. Not her earthly mother. "Goddess," she said.
You have been a good daughter to Me, little one. And I have taken care of you, have I not?
Amy opened, then closed her mouth.
I know what you're thinking. Three years as a rat, yes indeed. But who was it who gave you the power to transform yourself? And what type of Goddess would I be if I did not let My children make their own mistakes? Even the gods cannot interfere with the free will of a human soul. You know that. And things turned out for the best in the end, did they not? Do not worry, I always take care of My children.
Suddenly feeling very little, Amy raised her eyes, as if to Her. "What do you want of me?" she asked, fearful.
Hush, little one, She answered and Amy could swear she felt the gentle touch of Her hand against her cheek. I want nothing you are not prepared to give to Me.
"I am your servant, Goddess," she said with more confidence than she felt, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to hide her doubts from Her. "All that I have is yours."
Such a dutiful daughter you are to Me. You make a deity proud.
"What would you have me do?"
Willow Rosenberg. I know you know of her.
Of course, thought Amy. Willow was the girl who had cared for Amy the three years she had been a rodent. Had been the girl who finally had been able to transform her back to human. Had gone on an extremely entertaining night on the town with Amy. And then had tried to destroy the world.
She is gaining power too quickly. It cannot continue, or soon she will rival even Our power. Osiris is angered. She has already invoked Him once, used His Name to resurrect the dead Slayer. Already she is feeling the consequences for that action-—the mystical forces surrounding the Chosen line have become irrevocably altered, become unstable, vulnerable. A force even greater than We is ready to take advantage. But she called Him again, summoned Him to her to entreat Him to restore her dead lover. Osiris does not take well to being treated like a human's lapdog. And she does not show Me the deference that you do, little one. She still considers herself Jewish, even. What power has Yahweh ever given her? Her insolence must be punished.
"Then why don't You do something? Or Osiris?"
Our hands are tied, metaphorically speaking. Janus is fond of her, as she brings Chaos with her wherever she goes, and He will not allow Us to do what We must.
Willow Rosenberg, so powerful that even the gods quibbled over her fate? What had she done to earn such a fate? Why did she deserve such power? Why not Amy?
Yes, answered Hecate. I can feel your envy, your hate, your lust for power. These will serve you well in what you must do for Me. You must cast a spell, My daughter. I can do that much, give you the power with which to alter the fabric of reality. Just a little bit, but with luck it will be enough. You and that group of adolescents who so often have used My Name in vain, but to whom you are teaching the True Path, as long as you act as My conduits, Janus will not be able to act against Me.
The goddess Hecate wanted her to cast a spell with the UC Sunnyadle Wicca group? Why them? Why her?
Because you thirst for power with a desire I have rarely seen in all the millennia, My child, the goddess answered. And that thirst will be My most powerful weapon against the witch Rosenberg. But for now, My child, sleep. Rest.
And Amy was filled with warmth as the Goddess kissed her on the forehead and left.
That Old-Time Religion
Amy Madison wasn't really the prayerful type; she had never been religious. She had gotten into Wicca for the power, the ability to manipulate the universe, not for the spirituality. Her encounters with the UC Sunnydale Wicca group, who focused almost solely on the spirituality and had very little idea what a spell even was, did not do much to change that. She had paid lip service to their Belthane Bake Sale plans, and had begun to corrupt them slowly and surely as she showed them the darker side of their religion.
So she didn't really know why she made a prayer to Hecate every night before she went to bed. She didn't believe in the gods and goddesses, at least not literally as entities which lived in the sky somewhere. They were just names to invoke, more the means to the completion of spells which would grant her the ends that she desired. Nothing more.
Still, every night as she approached her bed, she'd pause and bring herself to the bosom of the Mother Goddess. It'd be a simple prayer, something along the lines of "Mother Hecate, look after me and help me get that new car I want." But it'd be a prayer, a single moment she would spend with her Goddess, part of something bigger than herself.
And one night, the Goddess spoke back.
Come to Me, My child, She whispered.
Amy looked up, startled. "Mother?"
Yes, dear one.
Suddenly, Amy understood. Her mother, yes, but not Catherine Madison. Not her earthly mother. "Goddess," she said.
You have been a good daughter to Me, little one. And I have taken care of you, have I not?
Amy opened, then closed her mouth.
I know what you're thinking. Three years as a rat, yes indeed. But who was it who gave you the power to transform yourself? And what type of Goddess would I be if I did not let My children make their own mistakes? Even the gods cannot interfere with the free will of a human soul. You know that. And things turned out for the best in the end, did they not? Do not worry, I always take care of My children.
Suddenly feeling very little, Amy raised her eyes, as if to Her. "What do you want of me?" she asked, fearful.
Hush, little one, She answered and Amy could swear she felt the gentle touch of Her hand against her cheek. I want nothing you are not prepared to give to Me.
"I am your servant, Goddess," she said with more confidence than she felt, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to hide her doubts from Her. "All that I have is yours."
Such a dutiful daughter you are to Me. You make a deity proud.
"What would you have me do?"
Willow Rosenberg. I know you know of her.
Of course, thought Amy. Willow was the girl who had cared for Amy the three years she had been a rodent. Had been the girl who finally had been able to transform her back to human. Had gone on an extremely entertaining night on the town with Amy. And then had tried to destroy the world.
She is gaining power too quickly. It cannot continue, or soon she will rival even Our power. Osiris is angered. She has already invoked Him once, used His Name to resurrect the dead Slayer. Already she is feeling the consequences for that action-—the mystical forces surrounding the Chosen line have become irrevocably altered, become unstable, vulnerable. A force even greater than We is ready to take advantage. But she called Him again, summoned Him to her to entreat Him to restore her dead lover. Osiris does not take well to being treated like a human's lapdog. And she does not show Me the deference that you do, little one. She still considers herself Jewish, even. What power has Yahweh ever given her? Her insolence must be punished.
"Then why don't You do something? Or Osiris?"
Our hands are tied, metaphorically speaking. Janus is fond of her, as she brings Chaos with her wherever she goes, and He will not allow Us to do what We must.
Willow Rosenberg, so powerful that even the gods quibbled over her fate? What had she done to earn such a fate? Why did she deserve such power? Why not Amy?
Yes, answered Hecate. I can feel your envy, your hate, your lust for power. These will serve you well in what you must do for Me. You must cast a spell, My daughter. I can do that much, give you the power with which to alter the fabric of reality. Just a little bit, but with luck it will be enough. You and that group of adolescents who so often have used My Name in vain, but to whom you are teaching the True Path, as long as you act as My conduits, Janus will not be able to act against Me.
The goddess Hecate wanted her to cast a spell with the UC Sunnyadle Wicca group? Why them? Why her?
Because you thirst for power with a desire I have rarely seen in all the millennia, My child, the goddess answered. And that thirst will be My most powerful weapon against the witch Rosenberg. But for now, My child, sleep. Rest.
And Amy was filled with warmth as the Goddess kissed her on the forehead and left.
